Mother, or career criminal?

I throw myself on the floor, hurriedly shoving things underneath the duvet, away from prying eyes. I smooth down my hair and put on my very best innocent face.

“What are you doing Mummy?”

Keeping my voice breezy and casual, I say: “Oh, just making the bed, darling.”

“Can I help?”

Bugger. Think fast, woman. She must not touch the duvet under any circumstances. We need a distraction. “Erm, okay, why don’t you go down and see if there are any clean pillowcases on top of the washing machine?”

I wait until I can hear she’s turned the corner to go downstairs, and I make a run for it, grabbing everything I’ve just hidden in the bed, and transferring it to my weekend bag, which is on the bedroom floor. I manage to sit on the bag and get the zip closed, only breaking one nail in my haste.

“I can’t see any pillowcases Mummy,” says a voice at the door, making me jump a mile. Jesus. How does she do that so quietly? Is she half-ninja?

So now I’ve just got to get the bag downstairs without arousing any suspicion. Dirty tactics are justified in these circumstances. “Hey, Flea, in the lounge, in the sideboard, I think there are some Maltesers left. Why don’t you go and see if you can find them?”

There are no Maltesers.

But all my computer cables are in that drawer and it's such a tangle that it's going to take her at least two minutes to find that out for herself. Of course, nothing moves faster than a four-year-old on a promise of chocolate, and by the time I look up, she's already gone.

As I hear her start rummaging in the drawer, I seize the opportunity to slip downstairs, past the lounge door and into the kitchen, avoiding the squeaky tile. Get the keys from the cupboard, then slip out through the back door to the garage.

Almost there.

I can hear a voice “Mummeee…..where are you? I can't see the Maltesers, Mummy. Mummy?”

She knows something’s going on, but she’s too late. Ha! Mission:Impossible has been achieved. Another bag filled with soft toys, too-small slippers and baby toys has been safely extricated from the house. Phew.

I think being a parent and trying to clear a space in the toy cupboard might actually be the perfect training for becoming a cat burglar.

Sally is a full-time blogger and founder of the Tots100, Trips100, Foodies100 and HIBS100 communities, along with the MAD Blog Awards. She spends a bit too much time on the Internet. She’s also a very happy Mum to Flea, the world’s coolest ten year old.

Oh brilliantly done – brilliantly 🙂
We have the ‘storage unit’ we actually have one, but if half the stuff that we donate, too small, not played with etc. was there it would be floor to ceiling childrens goods and quite entertaining to watch someone open the door to 🙂

Oh that did make me laugh. I used to the same thing – stow away whenever the ever watchful eyes were turned away. Except that they would notice immediately that something was missing. Even teddy bears who hadn’t seen any cuddling for a few years.

@21stcenturymummy – they are! I won’t be able to pull the wool over her eyes for much longer!
@Deb- shocked to the CORE by your comment. Tsk.
@Mummyince – I bribed her with buttons instead, later.
@MummyTips – why is it so hard? Flea HATES getting rid of things, even if she hasn’t played with it in a year!
@April – our house looks a bit like that, too!
@Heather – I like your tactics 😉
@Liz – I keep them in the garage for a week just to be sure, so if she notices I can pretend it was just being washed!

This had me in stitches! I totally thought you were hiding sex toys too. Finding out it was to clear a cupboard is hilarious. My nearly-four-year-old is half-ninja too so I feel your pain. How do they glide around so soundlessly? It’s kinda freaky.